One Day
by aliealouise
Summary: John is totally in love with someone he has only ever met four times.
1. One day

**A/N This was a story I had come to me while stuck in hospital so it kept me company for a bit**

 **Warning, for very mature content, if you don't like Johnlock do not read this.**

 **Disclaimer: All right to ACD and BBC**

John Watson was never one to take much stock in fate or destiny or whatever people called it. To him life was what you made it. Life was something you worked at and you either love it or hated it.

Right now John hates his life, invalided out from the army, unable to work as a surgeon and walking around London with a cane and a limp was not how he had planned on his life going.

He had planned everything, he was to spend most of his life in the army; to retire an old man and spend the rest of his life in peace in some cottage in the country or by the sea.

He never saw a partner though, he never pictured falling in love and spending the rest of his days with another, because he had fallen in love a very long time ago, but he never got the chance to tell that person, let alone find out their name.

Four times he had met this person, four days he had been able to be with him, to talk to him, touch him, but always he ended up being taken away.

The first time was when John was only five.

He had just moved to the outskirts of London. His mother had only been able to get John and his sister into a rather posh school, funded by his grandparents, as all other places had been taken up.

His first day John had been nervous and excited all at once, the school looked like fun to a five year old, it had a rather brilliant play area that John just itched to explore, so when the bell rang for first break, John had practically flown out the doors, running as fast as his legs would carry him to that playground.

He had gone down the large slide several times before he noted a boy sitting under the structure. He had a mop of curly, black hair, pale skin, and when the boy looked up when John said 'Hi', John couldn't determine the colour of the boy's eyes. They were blue and grey and green and silver and right now a bruise was forming under the left eye.

"What happened?" John asked the smile on his face disappearing as he knelt next to the smaller, skinnier boy. "What did that?"

The boy blinked at John as he pointed at his eye.

"Nothing." The boy replied wrapping his long arms around his legs.

"That doesn't look like nothing."

"Go away." The boy snapped, but John didn't even flinch.

"Nope." John shook his head. "You should tell the teacher."

"The teacher won't do anything, they never do."

"Oh…well come on." John stood and held out his hand.

The boy looked up at him and frowned at the hand then slowly lifted his, allowing John pull him to his feet. John smiled and still holding the boy's hand, led him back into the school to where John had hung his bag in the morning.

"Why are we here?" The black haired boy asked.

"I have something that will help your eye." John said simply as he let go of the pale hand and reached into his bag. "My mum is a nurse, she makes me carry this." He pulled out a small white box that had a red cross on the lid. Opening it up he moved things about until he found what he was after.

Holding the blue gel pack in his left hand he put the box back in his bag then bent the pack in half before shaking it.

"Here, put it on your eye." John held the gel pack out and pale fingers took it.

"It's cold!"

"Yeah. It's good for bumps and bruises." John smiled and for the first time the boy smiled back slightly as he placed the pack on his growing black eye.

"You should be a doctor."

John startled at that. "Why?"

"You are good to people you don't even know." The boy shrugged. "All the doctors I've seen are nice, just like you."

"Oh, I want to be a soldier."

"Then be an army doctor."

"Okay then." John said with a smile.

John and the boy spent the rest of the day together, or rather the boy seemed to hover around where ever John was. No one but him talked to him, and no one seemed to really want him around, even the teacher who had only asked in passing about what had happened to the dark haired child's eye to which the boy just shrugged and the teacher didn't push it any further.

John never asked for the boy's name, but then he never gave his either, so when the next day came around and the boy never showed he wasn't able to ask after him. So John made a note to himself to ask the boy his name when he was back in school, however the boy never returned and even though John had only known him for that day, he started to miss him.

~.~.~.~

That was the beginning, the beginning of John missing someone he didn't even know, little did he know that it would only get worse.

When John turned fifteen his mum and sister treated him to a day out at Thorpe Park. He had always loved rides. He loved the speed and the thrill of them, but most of all he loved the danger, loved that little part of his mind that saw the potential threat of each and every ride and loved how he got a kick out of pushing past the fear and going for it. Basically it was his way of getting high.

While John's mum and sister went to get some food John opted to queue again for Stealth. It was the fastest ride on the park and he had already been on it twice. As he queued a group of boys around his age came up behind him and were shouting and taking the piss out of each other.

"I can't believe you invited the freak!"

"Hey, it's been a laugh hasn't it? I mean did you see his face!"

They all started to laugh holding their stomachs as though whatever they were on about was the funniest thing ever.

"Yeah…oh my god…I've never seen anything so funny in my life…oh, oh look there!" John followed the boy's arm as he pointed out to the milling crowed and his eyes instantly fell on a tall boy with dark, wet hair, his hand pushed inside his dark jeans and his white shirt covered in blue slime that caused the shirt to cling to his body.

"Hey freak!" One of the lads shouted and the tall boy flinched but didn't turn. "Leaving so soon? You should try another slushy shower!" The group of boys started to laugh again as the tall boy continued to walk away.

Looking at the group of boys a moment John's mind split; part of him want to just ignore the whole thing and go on the ride again, another wanted to tell the boys that they were all stupid and another wanted to chase after the tall, dark haired boy and see if he was okay.

The last part won.

Ducking under the barriers John made his way through the crowd looking for the white shirt stained blue and he was lucky when he spotted the boy make his way around to the back of a stand. Following, John wondered how he was going to explain himself to the boy, after all he was running after a total stranger simply to make sure if he was okay.

As he made his way round the back of the hook a duck stand, John slowed his pace and kept his hands in his jeans pocket.

"Why are you following me?" A deep voice sounded behind him causing him to jump and spin around.

The sight that confronted him was on a boy around his age, with about half a foot of height on him and a gaze that was both angry and inquisitive.

"Jesus!" John panted putting his hand to his heart. "You shouldn't sneak up on people like that!"

"Well you shouldn't follow total strangers."

"True." John said with a smile and took in the boy before him, when he got to his eyes he frowned. "Do I know you?"

"Doubt it, you don't go to my school and I don't know anyone our age outside of it."

"Oh, just…I don't, know you look really familiar." John muttered trying to work out where he had seen him before.

The boy looked down at John and John couldn't help but suddenly feel very exposed. The boy's eyes were penetrating to the point that John was sure he could see right down into his soul.

"Why did you follow me?" The boy asked again not taking his eyes from John.

"I…I don't know, to make sure if you were okay I guess." John shrugs and offers a small smile. "Those boys sounded like dicks, and well, I don't know, I just had to make sure."

"Make sure of what?"

"That they hadn't hurt you." The boy's face relaxed slightly but he still didn't let go of John's eyes.

"Why did you think they had hurt me?" He sounded more intrigued than anything else.

"The way you flinched when they shouted at you." John answered. "You hadn't realised they were in the queue, so when you heard them you had a physical reaction, meaning that you either expected to be hit or for something physical to happen at the sound of their voices."

"Very well observed." The boy said smiling slightly. "Not many people would notice that."

"Yeah well, they don't live a sister who shouts your name before either throwing something, or punching you." John said with a laugh.

The boy smiled a bit brighter at John's words and for some reason John wanted nothing more than to keep that smile on those cupid bow lips, or maybe kiss it away.

John had known for a long time that he found boys just as attractive as girls, and the boy before him was, without a doubt, one of the best looking people he had ever seen, even movie starts couldn't stand up against the tall figure before him.

They stood staring at each other for a moment then a shiver ran down the boy's tall frame as the sun disappeared behind some clouds.

Without thinking John pulled his grey jumper over his head, pulled his black shirt off and passed it to the boy, leaving him for a moment without a top.

"Here."

"What?" The boy asked his eyes wide.

"Take this. Your shirt is wet, and stained, and you will freeze. Sure it's warm when the sun is out but…" John looked up at the quickly forming overcast sky. "I don't think the sun will be back out for a while."

The boy hesitated, then took his own shirt off and quickly pulled on the black shirt that was offered, while John pulled back on his jumper. Once they were both dressed again John smiled once again brushing his fingers through his blond hair a few times.

"So…did you want to come get something eat? My mum and sister just went to get a table, or something." He shrugged. "I can't remember what." He continued as he pulled his phone free to see if his mum had texted him.

"No thanks, but thanks for the shirt." John looked up from his phone and nodded.

"Well it looks good on you." And it did, sure it was a bit bigger than the white shirt had been in, but it did fit him well, hanging off his lean frame in a way that made him look like a model. Also the fact that his skin was so pale the black just contrasted perfectly, just like his hair did.

"Er…thanks."

"You are welcome." Just then his phone did go off and he read the text informing him that his mum had bought a pizza from Inferno's, his favourite place in the park.

"That your mum?"

"Yeah…I best go."

"Yeah."

"But you are okay, right?" John asked, pocketing his phone.

"I am fine, go and enjoy the rest of your birthday."

John frowned. "I didn't tell you it was my birthday."

The boy smiled. "No, you didn't."

He then turned, walking away, leaving John standing there totally at a loss for a moment before his phone buzzed again and his stomach rumbled to remind him that he hadn't eaten since just before they left that morning.

It wasn't until that night that John dreamed of being five, talking to a raven haired boy with amazing eyes and a small voice telling him to be an army doctor, that John realised who it was he had bumped into that day at the park.

Sitting up in bed John stared into the darkness picturing those verdigris eyes and cursing himself, for once again, not getting a name.

~.~.~.~

The third time was one he almost wished he didn't remember.

John was in his first year of residency, he was twenty-three and worked on the A&E department at Bart's, when a call came through informing them of an overdose coming through to them.

John had specialized in drugs and narcotics while training and so he was put down as second on this case while the lead doctor gave out instructions to his staff in preparation for dealing with the patient.

"ETA?" John asked as he stood next to Dr Marks.

"Any minute. They think it's a cocaine overdose taken by hypodermic.

"Right, too much over a long time or too much in a short."

"Not sure."

John nodded just as the doors open and a trolley was rolled in with a paramedic knelt on the bed performing CPR on the patient.

"Crashed as we pulled up." The other paramedic said as they pushed the trolley into place. As the team got to work John listened as the paramedic listed everything he knew while his colleague continued to pump at the patient's chest until John's team took over.

"Heartbeat!" One of the nurse shouted and everything stilled a moment as the paramedic stopped what he was doing and then climbed off as they intubated the man on the bed and started to strip him to place monitoring pads on his body.

"Weak pulse…." John listened as all the information was shouted towards him and Dr. Marks. Marks, for his part continued to give orders and John added or stopped things if he felt a different course of action was needed.

An hour later John finally got close enough to his patient to see him for the first time. John paused as he took in the mess of dark curls and ghostly skin, his hand trembling slightly as he gently lifted back an eyelid and shone a torch into the verdigris eyes he dreamt of weekly.

"What the hell have you done to yourself?" He muttered, watching for any reaction of the pupils.

"John?" A nurse asked as he let go of the eye lid and just stared down at that the person he didn't know and yet had somehow taken over his heart.

"John, are you okay?" The nurse asked.

Looking up John nodded. "Yeah. Do we have a name?"

"No, he had no ID and no one was about when he was found."

"I see."

"Do you know him?" The nurse asked with a frown.

"I…no, he just looked like someone I met when I was younger."

"What was their name?"

"I don't know." John laughed slightly. "I never found out."

"So didn't know them that well."

"No, I only met them twice."

Suddenly the pale man on the bed came awake and instantly started to fight against the tube down his throat. John grabbed the man's wrists and placed them on either side of the bed holding him down gently but firmly.

"Okay, it's okay. You're in Bart's hospital being treated for an overdose. Do you remember what happened?" The man stared up at John with those strange eyes and John saw the flash of recognition before the man slowly nodded.

"Okay that's good. Now, if I let go of your arms you need to promise me that you won't try to take the tube out." The man rolled his eyes at this then nodded again.

"Good." John slowly let go of the man and was glad to see he was going to keep his promise. "Right. This is what is going to happen. We are going to keep you intubated for a bit longer, we need your sat levels to increase a bit more and for your blood pressure to come down. We have given you a list of drugs to help combat the side effects of the come down you are sure to be experiencing at some point soon, then once you are fully stable you will be heading off to a ward."

The man listened intently his eyes never leaving John's just like they never did whenever the two met.

John looked about noticing that the nurse had left and they were alone. Looking back down at the man John thought about the day he had turned fifteen and wondered if the black shirt he had given him still existed.

"Do you remember Thorpe Park?" John suddenly blurted out then bit his lip. "Sorry, you probably have no idea what…" Long fingers wrapped around his wrist causing John to stop talking and look down at where a pale hand contrasted with his own golden skin. When he looked back to those strange eyes, the man nodded again then winced as it seemed he was about to say something.

"Yeah, try not to do that." John said with a smile.

The fingers around his wrist tightened slightly as then man shuddered, his eyes closing. The monitors around them started to beep, but John quickly shut them off. They knew this would happen once the come down started, but they had already given what they could to help combat it and make it as painless and as easy as possible.

"It's alright." John tried to reassure him as his free hand reached up for the first time brushing back the curls that fell over the man's forehead. Those eyes opened again and the fingers tightened even more as the man pointed to his throat.

"Soon, I promise. But not just yet." John's fingers still ran through the dark hair and soon the fingers on his wrist relaxed slightly but they didn't let go.

John didn't leave him after that. His shift had ended and the man refused to let go of him, he practically kept a death grip on him the whole time and when they did pull the tube from his throat John could only stand by and watch, but he kept a hold of the thin hand until it was over and then the man turned to John.

"You…" he started to cough and a nurse got him to take a few sips of water before leaving John with the man alone.

When he had calmed down the man looked up at John with something close to wonder in his eyes.

"You…you became a doctor."

John couldn't help the smile that found itself onto his lips. "You remember that?"

"Yes. The Doctor five year old, with the first aid kit in his bag."

John laughed. "Doctor five year old?"

"Yeah, that is how I came to think of you."

"I see." John smiled. "You became the curly haired boy."

They both smiled then.

"I er…I also signed up for the army." The man's eyes hardened slightly at that but John ignored it. It was a look he had become used to seeing in people when he told them that he had signed up for the army, but those people were people that knew him, people he had grown up with, that he was friends with, not people he hardly knew.

"When?"

"Two years. Once all my training is finished."

"I see."

Silence fell on the two for a while but neither went to let go of the other's hand and as another shudder ran through the man John once again ran his fingers through his hair.

"Why?" John asked.

"Why what?" The voice was soft but still deep even as he continued to shake.

"This…why this? Why use drugs?"

"It helps."

"With what? Killing yourself?" He could hear the anger in his own voice and part of him thought it odd at how much he wanted to protect this man, to just make sure nothing bad ever happened to him and he would never end up in a hospital bed like this again.

"What concern is it of yours?" The thin hand suddenly pulled out of John's and John instantly missed it.

"I…it's not."

"Then kindly leave."

"What?"

Eyes harder than steel alighted on John and John shivered at the coldness within them. But it wasn't from fear that he had shivered. It was because this man was obviously so used to hiding himself that it was second nature to him.

"You have no right to concern yourself over my wellbeing just as I have none over yours."

"I…what have you to be concerned about me for?" John asked defensively.

"Really? You are joining the army."

"That's nothing like this!" John said waving his hand over the man. "This, this is stupid."

"Yes, as is getting yourself shot or blown up while on active duty."

John shut his mouth then stood and left the cubicle. Angry at the other man he stormed out of A&E but before he hailed a cab he decided to go get a cup of tea first so headed up to the cafeteria.

Once he had his tea in hand John chose a chair in the far corner and collapsed, blowing gently on the hot liquid before taking a tentative sip. Letting the tea run through him, his eyes closed and slowly he started to feel himself calm down.

He started to ask himself why he had gotten so angry in the first place, why had he allowed that man, that stunningly beautiful, amazing man, to get to him so much. He had known him less than a day if he added up all the hours they had spent together, from the day in school to the encounter at the theme park to today, yet no one had gotten under his skin like he had.

Drinking the last of the tea John stood and headed back down to A&E. He was going to get his name, he had enough of calling him the man, or the curly haired boy, or the wet t-shirt boy or anything like that. He wanted to know what the man, that had haunted his dreams his whole life, was called and he was determined to get that today.

When he got down to the cubicle, however, it was empty. Frowning, John looked about knowing that the man wasn't scheduled for any scans or tests and there was no way he would have been moved to a ward.

Turning he spotted the staff nurse and went over to her. "Hey, where did the overdose go?"

"Brother came and got him, said he had him booked into a private facility. Guess the NHS is not good enough for a posh snob."

"Do you have his notes?"

"Yeah…umm" The nurse frowned and started to look through her folders searching for the patient. "That's odd."

"Not there?"

"No, but I swear I had them a moment ago!"

"It's alright. Do you remember his name?" John turned to the computer ready to put the name in.

"No…"

John sighed letting his eyes close.

"You knew him didn't you?"

"Not really." John turned from the computer and started to do his coat up. "I'm off home."

"K, night John."

"Night, Sarah."

~.~.~.~

Last time John had seen Him (yes by this point He had earned a capital H) John was on leave. He had just finished his first tour of Iraq, was thirty years old and had recently been promoted to captain.

John had been forced into a night out with a group of friends from Uni, a bit of a reunion as most of his old group of friends had been so busy with their lives that none of them had seen each other for a few years.

As the night progressed and John felt the alcohol running sweetly through his veins he made the others agree to go to a gay club. John had decided he wasn't much in the mood for a woman, not tonight. Tonight he wanted something different, something he had not had since his Uni days, and maybe it was because he was with his old friends, he wasn't sure, but all he really wanted was the feel of solid muscle and hard flesh under him.

So pretty soon John found himself dancing in the middle of one of the most popular gay clubs in the city while his friends happily sat and chatted.

As John danced he let the music wash over him, his eyes closing as he moved his body, moved it in time with the music and with the crowd around him.

He had only been on the dance floor for ten minutes when he felt hands on his hips and then a body press up against his back. Normally, John would have turned, would have looked to see who it was dancing with him, but instead his mind filled in the gaps. His mind showed him, Him. It showed a tall, lean body with pale skin, a mop of dark curls and those eyes, eyes that had caught John's and kept his heart all those years ago.

Sighing, John leaned back into the lean, firm body behind him, the hands on his hips tightening as John continued to sway with the music.

As his head rested against a bony shoulder, soft lips brushed against his neck and then moved up to breathe softly against his ear and then a voice, a voice that carried over the music, a voice he thought he had forgotten spoke.

"Hello, my doctor."

John's eyes flew open and he turned in the circle of His arms and looked up into those eyes.

"You!"

The man smiled and John did the one thing he had wanted to do all those years ago at Thorpe Park. He kissed that smile from that gorgeous face. Lifting his hands John delved his hands into those soft curls, curls he had been itching to feel once again since the time he ran his fingers through them in an attempt to soothe Him. As John kissed Him he felt those hands move around to his arse, pulling him closer still till they were touching from lips to thighs.

The kiss had started off hard and sloppy, but John soon regained control and before long he had the taller man almost melting against him.

When they pulled apart John kept hold of His head and placed their foreheads together. Breathing hard, John opened his eyes and was once again caught by those eyes. Growling, he took hold of His hand and started to drag Him to the bathrooms.

Once inside John ignored the others in the room and pushed Him into a stall, locking the door behind him.

The other attacked first, pushing John against the door and catching his lips with His own causing a moan to escape John. Kissing Him was exactly how John had dreamed it to be and yet it was so much more, it was hot and cold, hard and soft, tender and harsh all at the same time. It was like the two of them had both been wanting this just as much as the other and for just as long. John could practically taste the want, the desperation coming off the other and he knew that he probably tasted the same.

They kissed again until they both had to pull apart to breathe and then John just stared.

"Name." John demanded.

"What?"

"What is your name?" He growled.

"When do you leave?"

John paused, trying to understand what He meant, and once he did he bit his lower lip.

"I'm being stationed in Germany next week."

"Then no names." He said and once again attacked John's mouth.

John grabbed the other by the hips and pulled Him closer as he thrust forward, a moan escaping Him as he obviously felt how hard John had become in his jeans.

Breaking the kiss He started to kiss down John's neck as John pulled at His black shirt, pulling it from His tailored trousers until he was able to get his hand inside and finally touch skin. Sighing, John ran his hands from His stomach to His sides and then to His back, running his fingers down what he knew would be pale skin, using his nails so that he would leave red marks.

As he did this he felt those soft lips part against his neck and then teeth grazed the sensitive skin there causing John to tilt his head back give the man more access.

"Dear God." John gasped as He moved his hand down and cupped John's cock through his jeans.

"I want this in my mouth." The other whispered against his neck.

"Yes…please, God yes!"

The man kissed John once again till John was left breathless and begging as He had undone John's jeans and was pulling free John's cock and ever slowly started pulling on it.

"Please…damn it! I wish I knew your name."

"One day, one day I promise I will give it to you." He was then on His knees and swallowed John down till John felt the head of his cock touch the back of His throat.

The man was a tease, He used everything in his arsenal, from his hands to his lips, his tongue and even his teeth. He had John on the edge more times than John cared to admit and then somehow pulled him back only to push him to the brink yet again. By the time John came, his legs hardly held him up. If He hadn't been pushing him hard against the door John was sure he would have collapsed as he spilled into that amazing mouth.

As John caught his breath he looked down at the man on the floor as He tucked John back into his jeans and did them up. When He looked up John grabbed Him by the hair and pressed his lips against His, his tongue darting out licking the seam between the other's lips and tasting himself as he was given access to the other's mouth.

"Your turn." John breathed pulling the taller man to his feet and turning to push Him against the door.

John didn't give Him a chance to say or do anything as he instantly went to his knees, undid His trousers and soon had the long, flushed cock in his mouth. John moaned at the weight of His cock on his tongue, at the taste of Him, all male and spice; sweet and salty.

Sucking hard, he pulled his head back till only the tip remained in his mouth swirling his tongue around the sensitive skin there before running the tip of his tongue over the thin slit. The other had delved His hands into John's hair but He continued to let John have full control.

Swallowing him back down John brought his hand up to wrap around the base of His cock applying pressure just as He had done to John, holding Him off for as long as possible.

"I…God…John…" John paused but only briefly as the other tightened His hands in his hair, and then He was coming.

John continued to suck, slowing as the man came to the end of his orgasm, milking Him for all He was worth until He begged John to stop.

Licking his lips, John looked up at the other and glared. "You know my name."

"Of course I do."

"But…how?" John stood as He tucked Himself back in His trousers and then looked up at John.

"I've always known it.

John Watson, who lived with his mum and sister, his grandparents paying for him to go to the only school that had any places left when they moved to the outskirts of London.

John Watson, who played doctor to a young boy who had received a black eye after proving that one of his classmates had stolen from one of the other students. The boy was then transferred the next day as his parents had had enough with the continued bullying he had received.

John Watson, who spent his fifteenth birthday at Thorpe Park, who queued to go on Stealth for the third time but instead ran after a stranger to make sure he was okay, and then gave him his t-shirt because he didn't want the other to get cold.

John Watson, who cared so much for someone he had only met twice, that he stayed after his thirteen hour shift had finished and cared for him until the other pushed him away.

I apologise for that by the way, I never was very nice on a come down."

"John Watson." He lifted his hands up then taking Johns face with them. "I have been in love with you for a very long time, but now is still not the right time."

"Why?" John asked in a whisper leaning into His touch.

"Because when I have you I will have you fully, and you cannot give me that right now." He leaned forward then brushed his lips against John's. "I should go."

"No…" John's heart was in his throat and tears came unbidden to his eyes. "Please no."

"John, I promise, I truly promise you will have it, all of it, but not today." He kissed him again, this time for longer, and this kiss trumped all the kisses that had come before. This kiss spoke of love, it spoke of promises still not made, of a time that still waited for them, and it spoke of what was going to be.

John understood then, he knew that He was right, that John could not give himself fully, not while he was still in the army, not when he was to be deployed to war zones at a moment's notice. John wanted, he needed to give this man everything but now was not the time.

When the kiss ended John looked up into those impossible eyes.

"One Day." John smiled sadly.

"Yes." The other replied returning the smile.

There was another brush of lips and then He was gone, leaving John alone once again.

~.~.~.~

"John….John Watson!" John turned at the sound of his name frowning slightly at the slightly cubby man. "Mike, Mike Stamford."

"Yes, of course, Mike, good to see you."

John sipped at his tea as Mike ate his lunch next to him.

"Who would want me as a flat mate?" John said, only half joking.

"You know, you are the second person to say that to me today." Mike said with a smirk.

"Who was the first?" John asked only receiving a slightly sly grin in return.

~.~.~.~

Walking into the lab John raised his eyebrow. "Bit different from my day."

"Mike, can I borrow your phone?" John started at that voice. In fact his whole body tensed and then he looked to the far desk where He was sitting looking through a microscope.

"Sorry, it's in my other jacket."

"Here." John heard himself saying, his hand moving without his command to retrieve his phone. "Use mine."

The man looked up then and those amazing, impossible eyes widened.

"I…" Everything in the room had stilled until Mike cleared his throat.

"That night five years ago, was a hell of night wasn't it, John?" John turned to look at Mike stunned.

"You…" He started but Mike shrugged then walked out of the lab, John had no choice but to watch him go.

Gripping his cane John turned back to Him, part of him wanting to run. This was never meant to happen like this. John had meant to meet him again fit and stronger, not injured and weak.

"John…"

God that voice, that voice saying his name had been the source of many late night wank sessions. The memory of those lips around him, sucking him off had seen John through a lot, and now they were saying his name again.

"John?"

"Name?" John managed to say his eyes looking up as He closed the gap between them.

"John…" The taller man finally reached John His fingers hesitant as they reached out stopping just before they touched his face.

"Name." John said again, this time in the voice of a captain.

"Sherlock."

"Sherlock?"

"Yes, Sherlock Holmes."

"Well Sherlock Holmes, I'm John Watson and I am pretty sure that I have been in love with you since I was five years old."

Sherlock smiled and John once again did what he had done five years ago, he took that smile from him by kissing it away.


	2. I know

One day.

It took one day for John to fall in love.

He had been five.

Of course he didn't know at the time that he had fallen, but he had and so he was bound to it until he could have it.

It took thirty years.

He had it for nearly two years.

Until.

Sherlock is gone.

John watched him fall.

John buried him.

John cannot move forward.

Dull light filtered through the closed heavy curtains of the bedroom. It informed its occupier that a new day had started but John just stared at the wall, his eye's blinking slowly as he replayed one of their days, the day at the theme park, with the wet shirt and blue slushy. He liked that day, he had turned fifteen and Sherlock had been there, it had been their second day.

[I _]"I kept the shirt."_

 _John frowned from his position on the bed, the bed he and Sherlock had just spent their first night in. "What shirt?"_

 _"The one from the park, the black one." Sherlock looked away, blushing slightly as he fumbled with the covers that where creased and showing its use from the night before._

 _John smiled. "Can I see?"_

 _Sherlock looked up at John then stood, not at all put off by his nudity, walked to the chest of drawers in the corner and opened the top draw. John watched as Sherlock looked down at the draw then reached in and instead of pulling out a t-shirt he lifted a box and came back to the bed._

 _"I kept other things too." Sherlock quietly said as he opened the box._

 _"Like what?" John wanted to peer into the box, to see for himself but he held himself back letting Sherlock show him._

 _"Do you remember this?" Sherlock held out a small blue plastic square that would have once been soft and squidgy but was not hard and brittle._

 _"You kept the gel pack!" John reached out taking it in his hands, in complete awe that he was holding something that he had given Sherlock thirty years ago._

 _"Yeah, and this." He pulled out the hospital bracelet he had been given when John had looked after him, it didn't have Sherlock's name on it though, instead it had Dr Marks and Dr Watson written on it._

 _John took the bracelet as it was held out to him but said nothing. That meeting had been hard for the both of them and John had spent many years after that wondering if Sherlock was even alive._

 _"Now don't get all defensive about this one." Sherlock held out a picture which caused John to frown until he looked it at._

 _It was of him, on a dance floor, eyes closed, arms raised, head tilted back, he looked good, hot even._

 _"How the hell did you get this?"_

 _"Top of the range camera phone. Not as good as todays but still pretty good."_

 _"You took this?"_

 _"Yeah, seconds before...well you remember." Sherlock smiled with a shrug._

 _"Yeah I remember perfectly." John whispered._

 _Next Sherlock pulled out the black shirt, the one John had given him because his was covered in ice cold slushy._

 _Taking the item if clothing John studied it._

 _"You have touched this a lot."_

 _"Yes."_

 _"Why?"_

 _"I...It gave me comfort."_

 _"Comfort."_

 _"It reminded me that someone out there liked me, that I wasn't totally alone and that hopefully, one day, I would meet that person again."_

 _John smiled, huffing out a small laugh._

 _"And you did. Remind me to get Mike a nice bottle of scotch as a thank you."_

 _"Agreed._ "

That had been the morning after the cabbie. After their first night together in what was to become their bed, in their bedroom and in their flat.

But now it was all just John's.

 **Four months after the fall**

Sherlock stood with his hand out, reaching for the door handle, but he froze, finding himself unable to touch, to open the door.

It had been four months since he jumped, since he left John to believe he was dead. He forced the man he loved to watch, to see it all and to feel it as though it was real when in fact it was a lie. He let the man that had loved him his whole life believe he was dead and yet here Sherlock was, willing to risk it all just to see John, to hold him, kiss him, just once, just today.

The door suddenly opened, a hand grabbed his coat pulling him into the flat.

"Mrs Hudson is on her way back!" John hissed slamming the door closed as he let go of the coat then stalked over to the fire place as Sherlock just stood in shock.

The two stared at each other, John with his fist clenched breathing hard, his eyes cold and distant, Sherlock with wide eyes, confusion clear on his face.

"How?" Sherlock finally asked.

"Fuck how." John growled then was across the room, his hands pushing Sherlock hard against the wall as he attacked Sherlock's lips with his own.

Sherlock held onto John's arms as he found himself unable to response as before he could John was pulling at his clothing as he bit and lick at Sherlock's neck. Soon Sherlock's coat and shirt where open and John moved his mouth to his chest giving it the same attention he gave his neck.

"John I-"

"Shut up Sherlock, don't talk." John ordered without looking up his mouth nipping with every word.

Not a word was spoken after that.

John fell to his knees, his hands at Sherlock's belt and trousers. Within a second John had Sherlock's cock in his mouth and Sherlock had no choice but to hold on to whatever his hands could find, so John's head had to do.

It didn't take long for Sherlock to come hard down John's throat.

Breathing heavily, he slid down the wall with his eyes close as came down from the high he found himself on. When he finally opened his eyes John was still knelt before him his eyes now dark and full of anger and lust.

"You can leave now." John finally said as he got to his feet.

"John."

"Leave Sherlock, go do what you have to do."

Sherlock's high diminished as John fell onto his chair his head resting in his hand as his eyes closed. Standing, Sherlock quickly sorted himself out then just stood as he watched John. He knew he should go, knew this was a mistake but he also knew that if he didn't come today then he would have tomorrow, or the next day or the next and he would have never been able to concentrate on what he really had to do so it had to be today.

"John..."

"Leave."

Sherlock lowered his head then turned, leaving the flat that was his home.

 **Eleven months after the fall**

John rolled his shoulders, his fingers flexing as much as they could as he tried to keep hold of the heavy shopping bags in his grip.

He had finished work early and he knew he needed to go shopping, that he couldn't live on Mrs Hudson's scones and cakes forever. So with his last patient not turning up he left with the intent to fill his cupboards once again. He should have ordered online instead.

As he walked he kept his head high, staring down any that dared to try to make him move from his straight course. Several people moved away at the last second, their resolve just as strong as John's, but John had something they didn't, he didn't care.

As he turned onto Bakerstreet he again adjusted his grip, his eyes casting downward for a second. When he looked back up he stopped dead, his grip loosening causing his shopping to fall, the bags spilling everywhere and those around just stared and walked round, not a single person stopping to help.

Sherlock stood a good twenty feet away, his hair was cut short, so short that his curls had disappeared, it was also dyed, now more brown than black. He wore dark blue jeans a white button down shirt and a brown leather jacket. He didn't look at all like himself but John knew it was him, he would always know it was him, would always know when those eyes were on him.

John took a step forward to which Sherlock shook his head, it was a small movement but John caught it, he understood it so he stopped and just held his ground.

He was being watched, they both were and with that John closed his eyes and slowly crouched down to begin gathering his shopping. Picking up his bags he started to fill them once again until one item remained. Reaching out he went to grab it when another hand picked it up.

Closing his eyes again he took in a deep breath as he tried to calm his racing heart.

Looking up he took in Sherlock's long legs, the jeans hugging every curve, then up the buttons of the shirt to the long neck and then finally to eyes bright and full of emotion.

"Here." Sherlock said with a smile holding out the tin of rice pudding. John took it, their fingers brushing for the smallest amount of time.

"Thanks."

"No problem." They both held the others eyes until Sherlock nodded once and walked away.

When John got into his flat he looked down at his hands. He had left his shopping on the pavement, the only thing he had was the tin of rice pudding Sherlock had given him.

 **Seventeen months after the fall**

John hated November, always had. It was the month that didn't know what it was. It was also the month fireworks night happened, or rather fireworks fortnight happened. For a solid two week's fireworks would be heard going off all over London and for an ex-army doctor with PTSD it was not the best of times.

The nights had started to close in early, darkness having fallen totally by five in the afternoon so John found himself either walking home in the dark or risking the over crowed tube train.

He like the tube better simply because there was less risk of some idiot setting of a firework near him, so on the fifth of November a night that landed on a Friday he found himself rammed into an underground car heading for Bakerstreet, a journey that would take fifteen minutes.

When he first got on all the seat were taken, forcing him to stand. Lucky for him he found a place near the end of a car and so he was able to have his back against the car itself and overlook those travelling with him.

When the train stopped after his stop he moved with those near him making room till someone stood right before him.

Laughing slightly, he looked down and shook his head.

"Hello John."

"Hello Sherlock." John said as he looked up.

They smiled and then they were kissing. John found his hand delving into curls now regrown though still brown in colour, while his other hand wrapped around a thin waist pulling Sherlock closer till they were touching from lips to hips.

Sherlock's hands found their way onto John, one holding the back of his neck the other across his shoulders, holding John to him as if his life depend on it.

Moaning as the kiss deepened John found Sherlock taking advantage of his open mouth, the man's tongue delving in and taking what he wanted. John let him, he let him have control because he couldn't, he needed to be taken to be had, needed it more than he needed to breath.

When they did break apart, both of the gasping for air, both of them clutching, clinging, holding the other for dear life John found himself with tears streaming down his face.

"I can't do this forever." John shuddered as he spoke.

"I know. Soon, I promise it will all be over soon."

Pulling away slightly John moved his hand from Sherlock's hair to his face, his palm catching on the stubble on Sherlock's face.

"I miss you."

"I do to."

"Come home with me, please." John begged pulling Sherlock closer, his head burying itself against Sherlock's neck. "Please, please come home with me."

He felt Sherlock shake with suppressed tears as he too pulled at John.

"I can't...I want to; god I want to. I want to take you to bed, I want to strip you slowly so I can touch and taste every inch of you. I want to be in you, to take my time with you, to make you mine all over again. Please know I want that John, so, so much. But it's not safe. They...you are still being watch, constantly being watched and until you are safe I can't come home."

John knew, he knew about those watching him, Mycroft had told him, had told him everything. So he understood, but understanding didn't stop the pain.

"I know." John finally whispered.

They kissed again, this time slowly, lovingly. Until Sherlock pulled back placed a kissed to John's forehead and muttered a few words before leaving as the car came to a stop once again.

 **Twenty months after the fall**

Sherlock sipped at the rather expensive scotch in the rather fine cut glass tumbler held in his hand.

He was sat in the lounge bar at a hotel in Brussels, it was a break from the shit holes he had found himself in of late, in fact it was more than a break, it was more like a holiday. But he was still working, still dismantling Moriarty's network still trying to keep John safe.

His step up in the world came from following one of Moriarty's higher ups, a man that dealt in weapons and was due to book into the hotel within the next hour. Sherlock had been watching him for some time now and the only thing the man did regularly was to check in to this very hotel and met up with his favourite male prostitute. Unfortunately for the prostitute though he had come down with a rather bad bout of food poisoning and Sherlock was to step in on his behalf.

As he waited he watched the people come and go. A conference of some sort was going on in the main room, so a lot of people milled about waiting for the next talk, or demonstration. As he studied one man he realised the conference was a doctors one, and not just for normal doctors. All around him were forces doctors and nurses, this was a medical conference for the armed forces.

Putting down he scotch he ran his hands through his hair a few times, a habit he had when trying to calm his racing heart and ranging emotions. He missed John, god did he miss him. Missed his smell, his laugh, his touch, his everything.

Sighing he sat back in his chair and looked about once again before picking his glass back up and downing the amber liquid then holding it up to indicate he wished for a top up.

As he waited he tried not to look around too much, he just looked down at his knees till a hand suddenly took his hand holding the tumbler and the sound of liquid filling the glass caused him to look up.

John's eyes flicked to his for a moment before he stopped filling the glass and put it on the table next to Sherlock's chair.

Sherlock had gone still, his heart having stopped, along with his breathing and all his thought processes, the only thing that moved or worked was his eyes which followed John as he walked around and took the chair in front of Sherlock's.

John looked good, he was in a well cut suit in a navy blue colour, with a white crisp shirt and a deep grey tie.

"Hello love."

"John." Sherlock finally spoke as he lowered his glass to the table. "What are you doing here?"

John tilted his head a small frown on his face. "You didn't know I would be here?"

"No."

"I see." John's eyes moved over him before looking back into his eyes. "Well I'm here for the conference, I'm a speaker for one of the seminars."

"Oh…John, you can't be here."

"Why not?"

"I…I'm meant to be meeting someone."

"Right."

"He's one of…Jim's higher ups." Sherlock said quietly, his eyes not leaving John's.

"Okay, so what are you planning?"

Sherlock sat back, he couldn't tell John he planned on killing the man, that he had in fact killed a lot of men in the last twenty months. He also couldn't tell John that for it to work, for him to get into the hotel room to do the deed, he needed to shamelessly flirt with the man he was to meet.

"I can't tell you."

"Of course not." John nodded. "Sorry."

"John please, you have to understand."

"I do understand, I've always understood. You needed to do this without me because you couldn't do it with me. You needed to fake your death, to make me watch, to make me truly believe that you had died. But I found out, I worked it out and then I got Mycroft to confess. Did he ever tell you that? That I made him tell me everything?"

"Yes."

"And have I compromised anything for you?"

"No."

"No, because I understood. I kept up the whole façade because I knew it was important to do so. Even when you kept turning up and putting me off I kept on pretending, kept on grieving because it was what you needed from me."

John sat forward his eyes dark.

"I'm staying here tonight, if you want to join me after your meeting then do so. If you can't then I will see you again, possible when this is all over, but hopefully it will be tonight, room four two six."

Standing John took the few steps between them then lent down and whispered in his ear.

"I promise you this though, whenever we get what we both want I will make you wish you never left." Lips brushed his ear and then John was gone.

Closing his eyes, he lent his head back against the chair he was in before picking up his scotch and taking a long pull on it. How the hell we he to do what he needed to do with John here?

"You must be Scott." A voice said pulling him from his thoughts. Looking up he looked at the man he had been waiting for and smiled.

"Yes." He said smoothly as he stood and took hold of the hand held out to him. "And you must be Sebastian."

"Indeed."

 **Twenty months after the fall**

John led against the plush pillows of the huge bed of his rather posh hotel room.

He had, had this whole trip paid for him, right down to the car that picked him up from the flat. He had been invited to speak on his time on the front line, a role that most army doctors never get to do, most having to stay behind the lines and wait for the wounded to come in. John however had been one of the first to go into the fray and fight as well as heal.

The speech had been good, people listened to him, they reacted to his stories and the follow up questions had been good giving further detail to what he had done. It had been good to talk about his time as an army doctor, good to talk to people that understood what he had been through.

But throughout the whole talk all he could think about was Sherlock. He was in some room within the hotel doing who knew what and John had no idea what he could do, either to help or to ignore.

It was now hours later, John had eaten alone, as well as gotten through half a bottle of red, after all he wasn't paying for any of this so he might as well take advantage of it.

Getting up off the bed he walked to the window, his image reflected back at him for a moment, showing him still dressed in his suit trousers, his shirt still tucked in and his tie long gone. His hair was slightly messy and though he felt as though he should look a mess he instead looked good.

Smiling he refocused his eyes and looked out over at the city he found himself in, some foreign city he had never visited before and probably wouldn't see much of seeing as he was flying back the next day. But still, he was someplace he never thought about seeing and yet here he was.

"We should come back here." John looked up using the window to look behind him. Sherlock was lent against the door, still dressed in the black suit he had been wearing before, and looking amazing.

"Yes we should." He turned with a smile on his face that instantly left as he noted blood dripping onto the floor. "Sherlock?"

He moved instantly across the floor taking Sherlock's face in his hands and lifting it so he could check his eyes: dazed and unfocused, his fingers moving to his neck checking his pulse; fast and unsteady.

"What happened?" He asked as his hands started to pull at Sherlock's jacket to get at whatever was bleeding.

"Knife." Sherlock lent against John's shoulder. "John."

"It's okay, I have you." John took in a breath, Sherlock's scent strong, but he needed to keep he's doctors head on. "Where?"

"Left lower side."

"Okay, come on, bathroom."

He led Sherlock to the bathroom, lowering him to the chair by the bath. "I just need to grab my bag."

"Umm." Sherlock responded his hand going to his side as John went back into the bedroom to grab his bag. When he returned Sherlock had his eyes opened and followed him as he knelt on the floor pulled on some gloves and started to undo Sherlock's shirt.

"Where is the guy that did this?"

"Dead. Mycroft will cover everything up, he has the others."

John paused for only a second before he carried on till he pushed the blood soaked shirt from Sherlock's shoulders and then grabbed a towel and pressed it to the bleeding wound causing Sherlock to groan.

"Sorry." Holding the towel in place he looked up at Sherlock who was still watching him.

"Mycroft." Sherlock finally said.

"Makes sense."

"He knew I could get hurt."

"Yep."

"So he sent you here."

"Again, it makes sense."

The whole time they just stared at each other, John just taking in the man before him, taking in the fact that Sherlock was in front of him and he wasn't about to just disappear.

"Right, lean back as much as possible I need to see what I'm dealing with." John ordered, holding the towel as Sherlock moved then removing it to look at what was done.

The wound itself was shallow but long which was why it seemed to bleed so much.

"Right, this could take a while to stitch.

"The longer the better." Sherlock muttered as he looked up at the ceiling.

"Sherlock you're not going anywhere to night."

"Oh good." John smiled at the tone, the relief in his partner's voice at not being sent away clear to be heard.

It took half an hour to stitch up the wound. He then bandaged it and then went about cleaning the blood off of Sherlock pale skin. The whole routine was so familiar to them; it was something they had done since the moment they had met. John helping to ease a black eye, then with the shirt, and the hospital. They had always had this relationship where John cared for Sherlock on a medical level. But Sherlock did so much for John, he helped him feel wanted, feel ground, feel loved.

"Can I kiss you now?" Sherlock suddenly asked.

"Yes, yes please."

Sherlock's lips were on his in an instant and he knew he was lost, his doctors brain gone leaving just John, leaving the man that was so totally in love with one Sherlock Holmes.

"John, take me to bed, please, take me to bed." Sherlock asked against his lips.

God he wanted to, he really wanted nothing more than to have Sherlock warm and pliant under him, over him, in him, around him, he wanted it so badly, but he couldn't, not yet.

"To sleep, we go to bed to sleep." John pulled back taking running his fingers gently over Sherlock's face. "We go to bed to cuddle, to talk, to sleep."

"Okay."

They both changed, John lending, or rather giving, Sherlock a pair of boxers that were far to large but with a safety pin did the job. John put on a pair of sleep shorts and once they both got into bed; John on his back with Sherlock laying on his right side and across John's chest they both just relaxed.

Leaning so he could rest his head against the top of Sherlock's John just soaked in having Sherlock with him a feeling he had been waiting so long to have.

"I dream of this." Sherlock whispered, his fingers drawing patterns over his chest.

"This is real."

"I know."

They didn't talk much after that, just cuddled and soon fell asleep, or at least Sherlock did. John stayed awake, kept himself alert, he didn't want to miss a second of this, didn't want to wake with Sherlock gone. He wanted this to end with a goodbye.

John watched the sun come up, he watched the sky go from black to light blue, going through all the colours it could do in-between.

The light slowly moved across the floor till it reached the bed and then moved up the covers, up across Sherlock's leg that had escaped the covers in the night, up to his hips, covered in the red boxers John had given him, till it reached his back, the vast expanse of pale skin warming in the light of the sun.

"When is your flight?"

Forcing his eyes off the body he loved, he moved them to the eyes he could die in.

"Two fifteen."

"So we have a few hours."

John smiled as he tightened his grip on Sherlock. "Yeah, breakfast?"

"Sounds good."

 **Twenty-four months after the fall**

*It's over. MH*

*What? Where is he? *

*We are on our way back to England now. It will be a few more hours. Meet us at my office. MH *

*How is he? *

*Mycroft? *

*Injured, but he will be okay given time. MH*

*How injured? *

*The office John, all will be explained then. MH *

*I'll be waiting. *

John grabbed the first cab he saw, somehow channelling Sherlock's super power of sticking out his hand and a cab just appearing. Half an hour later he was sat in Mycroft's office, a cup of tea in front of him, provided by Anthea. He was in for a long wait according to Mycroft's ever present assistant, the plane was still four hours out and then it was an hour from the airport. So he sat and waited, staring at the portrait of the queen for a time before pulling out his phone and going through his emails, then he reread his blog, and looked through Sherlock's before putting his phone away and started to pace.

When word reached them that the plane had landed and they were on their way, the nerves kicked it. It was silly really, after all he had seen Sherlock a few times since the fall. But this was different, Sherlock was coming home, it was over, he had finished what needed to be done and he was on his way to see John.

A smile suddenly found its way onto John's lips. It was over.

The door opened as Anthea walked in, followed my Mycroft holding up a very tired and injured Sherlock.

"Oh god." John stepped forward taking Sherlock from Mycroft, a move Sherlock seemed to appreciate as he wrapped his arms around John and just held him.

"John."

"Yeah, it's over, you're home." John looked over at Mycroft. "What happened?"

"He was caught, tortured, I spent four weeks on the ground to get him out."

"Bloody hell." John hissed as he moved Sherlock to the sofa

"I'm okay John." Sherlock said as he slowly lowered himself down.

"I'll be the judge of that." As Sherlock sat John stood before him then without a care to who he was with he took Sherlock's face in his hands and kissed him. It was a small, tender kiss, one filled with love and pain, pain of separation, of loss, it was also full of so much joy of having Sherlock back, of having him not just for a day, but forever.


End file.
